


Princes, Pirates, and Poems

by ThefirstRanger



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: A very small cameo by Kaz (like really small), AU, F/M, Ketterdam, Nikolai knows but Zoya doesn't know he knows, Poetry, Siege and Storm - Freeform, Sturmhond - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThefirstRanger/pseuds/ThefirstRanger
Summary: The Darkling sends Zoya Nazyalensky to Ketterdam to see if Prince Nikolai will be a threat to his plans. All she discovers is that Nikolai isn't as bad as the royal family and that he's a horrible poet. A month later, she meets Sturmhond, who's an equally terrible poet.(or, Zoya meets Nikolai as a college student and then Sturmhond meets Zoya on his ship, eager to continue their conversation.)
Relationships: Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Princes, Pirates, and Poems

It’s the most humiliating mission Zoya’s ever been sent on and she knows the Darkling knows it. Her talents should be on the battlefield, not chasing after the second prince of Ravka while he wastes his time in Ketterdam writing poetry. She doesn’t even know why they’re bothering to check up on the prince other than paranoia on the Darkling's part. But if the Darkling orders it, Zoya will do it, even if she hates Ketterdam. The canals smell, the people are rotten, and some little gloved punk with a cane stole Zoya's purse. It's a long day before she spots the golden prince lounging at an outside cafe table and Zoya's not in a good mood, but she can fake it for a little while.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Her accent lights up Nikolai’s face and he responds almost shyly, but with a line more suited for his brother.

“Only by you.” She flashes a brilliant smile and it’s almost too easy as he pulls the chair out for her to sit. 

“I thought I knew all the Ravkans in Ketterdam.”

"I am new here, visiting the college." Not a lie, but she's definitely not visiting the college for the reason Nikolai will think she is. He smiles, all charm and easy, and Zoya knows he doesn't suspect a thing. 

"What's your name?"

There is no reason for this all-but-officially banished prince to know her name so she feels comfortable in saying Zoya. She asks him his name and Nikolai swells up with pride when she feigns a visible response to his name.

"The prince? Moi tsar!" 

Zoya goes to bow (oh how she hates this mission) but she is stopped when Nikolai shakes his head of curls.

"There's no need for that." The words barely leave his mouth before Zoya straightens her back, ramrod straight against the chair again. She needs to take rein of the conversation or else she will be frittering away an afternoon with only Nikolai's cheerful glances to show.

"How are your classes?" 

"They are boring, but made much more amusing by the fact the professors know I am royalty and cannot fail me. Leaves me with more time to pursue other things." There's no up and down look to accompany his words, but Zoya's heard that phrase from hundreds of men and she know the implication. His words infuriate her. His privilege, the carelessness, the lack of desire to work for anything? She cannot help but let some of the poison out. 

"That's all you do? You're content to sit around and accept the grades given to you with out a second thought, no hard work?"

"I would rather focus on my poetry."

Zoya has no proper comeback for that answer and Nikolai smiles at her floundering.

“Would you like to read some?” 

There is nothing Zoya would like less, but she remembers her mission and grits her teeth to take the offered poem. At least she can tell the Darkling that Nikolai would be no threat to him if the prince only cares about his poetry and working for anything.

Admittedly, Zoya is not fond of poetry and wouldn’t know a good poem if it smacked her in the head, but even she can tell that Nikolai’s poem was a heap of garbage. Mushy yet somehow insincere, vague yet somehow too detailed in uncomfortable parts, and nearly incomprehensible. She had to tell him as much. 

“This is the worst poem I’ve ever read in my life.”

Instead of being hurt by her criticism, Nikolai surprised her by letting out a peal of laughter. 

“You are the first person to give me a straight answer. Thank you!”

“I've never had someone thank me for ripping into their poetry, but I will take any thanks thrown my way.” That gets no response except a smile.

She decides to tease him a little more. It's obvious Nikolai Lantsov has no valuable information to give her, but Zoya cannot help but prolong the conversation.

“The rose of my heart, yet you prick me with thorns,” Zoya hates the poem, but reading it outloud dramatically to Nikolai makes her happier than it should. The situation is so ridiculous and so is the laugh that comes of both their mouths.

“I am a better poet by this, but not by much.” Nikolai leans in like he's confessing a dark secret instead of talking about poetry over a plate of waffles.

Despite herself, Zoya’s brows arched up in surprise. “You deliberately write this badly?”

“I want to see how far being royalty gets me,” Zoya sneers inwardly at this typical, arrogant royal response, but Nikolai keeps talking. “And it is a good way to see who I can truly trust.”

She had not been expecting that. 

“You can trust someone just from reading them your poetry?”

Nikola grins a little before his face settles into seriousness. 

“If they flatter me and sing praises of my poetic skills, I know that they are willing to lie to me and will not keep me on the right path. If they tell me it is garbage,” He shoots a coy look at Zoya, “I know they are trustworthy.”

She scoffs because it’s so corny but she knows it would work. The royal court is full of sharks, fattening the king up with pretty lies. It is what will make the Darkling’s rise to power easy, but this royal is aware of it.

“You are someone I can trust.” He looks at Zoya earnestly and rather than puking in her mouth, Zoya is oddly flattered. The air heats up around her and she has no idea why. 

“How do you know I’m not just mean?”

Nikolai laughs and dodges the question; a wise choice on his part. 

“Can I compose a poem for you right now Zoya?”

She leans in and tosses her hair. "Only if it's your real poetry."

Was she actually flirting for real with the prince? Zoya could almost imagine herself as a normal student or tourist on a date with another normal student. The fantasy was boring, but… also nice. Nikolai looked deep into her eyes and pursed his lips, thinking. 

"The queen of my heart, eyes as sapphire blue as the ocean, your heart I want to win, so just let me start." 

Zoya sat there for a moment, dumbfounded at that awful piece of poetry, and for a brief moment, her mind flits between the best reaction before her instinct takes over and she chuckles just the tiniest bit. It's the first real emotion she's had all day and it's because of that saints-awful poem. 

"You have successfully turned me away from poetry forever." 

"How will you continue to live?" Nikolai raised his hand to his forehead and swooned dramatically, practically falling onto Zoya's lap. She notices that for a prince, Nikolai has surprising calloused hands, but chooses not to say anything. Zoya also chooses not to push him off immediately, all because of the mission of course. Not for any other reason. 

With those thoughts, Zoya knows it's time to go and she tells Nikolai as much, that she has to catch a boat, his face falling when he hears the news. He stands and gives a hand to help Zoya up, ever the gentleman. 

“Will I ever see you again Zoya?”

His voice is so eager that she decides to let him have his fantasy. 

“Maybe one day.” 

Maybe one day he will see her again ruling his country side by side with the Darkling. Maybe one day Nikolai will take his horrible yet charming-in-a-way poetry she’d never ever admit to liking and his creamy pastries to Ravka and see her ruling. Maybe she’ll come back to Ketterdam, enroll in college, and eat in horrible cafes with Nikolai far from the war of Ravka. Maybe. 

He smiles at that and rather than being hopeful or even sad, it feels like he’s laughing at something she does not yet know.   
~

She doesn’t make the connection until weeks later when she is back in Ravka and is on Sturmhond’s ship. After meeting the prince, Zoya is snappy and off her game. Meeting the prince humanized him and while the royal family is still horrid as ever, Nikolai hadn’t been all that horrid. It’s a tense time on the ship, especially after dinners when people have been drinking. Zoya refuses to touch the stuff, but Sturmhond seems to have been downing the stuff all evening. Empty bottles surround his feet and the Darkling makes a small jab at him for it. The ginger privateer merely drunkenly smiles up at him, the hidden insult rolling off his back. Zoya thinks she maybe admires him for that ability. Every word the Darkling says pierces through her skin and settles there.

Zoya storms off after she can no longer stand to be around the Darkling. A snide comment here, a small put down there and she can take it no longer. The still darkness is beckoning her and Zoya slips away from the fire without a glance backwards. See if anyone notices her absence. 

It's too long a time before Zoya accepts that no one has noticed her absence and her pride boils so much that she has to grip the wooden railing to keep from summoning a storm. She still might. There's drunken footsteps and a slight humming sound. Someone is coming. 

Zoya doesn't relax when she sees it's only Sturmhond and he smiles at her before joining Zoya on the rail. She knows she should be trying to charm him or talk with the garish ginger like the Darkling insinuated she should and maybe it's because of the liquid courage she had or the stuff she's had to put up with, but Zoya won't do that tonight. Sturmhond will get tired of silence soon enough. 

The minutes melt by and yet Sturmhond just stands next to her, apparently content to wallow in his drunkenness in silence. 

“You don’t belong with him. You should be free to make your own choice.” No one could say that Sturmhond didn't know how to start conversations with a bang. It’s mutinous talk, but for some reason, Zoya’s not quite stopping it. She wants to see how this plays out. 

“I would never belong to you if that’s what you're asking.” She feels like it’s not what he’s asking. Sturmhond leans back on the railing like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but Zoya can see his (admittedly nice) jaw tighten. 

“I would never waste gifts like yours. Your mind for strategy, your power, and your determination wouldn’t be wasted on missions beneath you.”

“And what type of missions do you think are beneath me?” There’s a challenge in her voice and she’s excited to see what he’ll come up with. His answer shocks Zoya to her core. 

“Slumming around Kerch colleges trying to find the second prince.” 

He smirks at the unspoken question on her face. “I have eyes everywhere.” 

The fact that Sturmhond either has eyes on Nikolai Lanstov or eyes on her should be more concerning, but Zoya can barely concentrate.

“You are not as drunk as you seem.” Away from the fire and the Darkling, Sturmhond isn’t swaying at all and his slurred, loud voice has gone dangerously soft like a sheathed sword waiting to draw blood. Zoya’s veins sing at the thought. 

“And you are not as content as you seem.” 

"I'm pretty content with my lot and gifts in life." She's not, but a cocky pirate doesn't need to know that. Sankt'ya, Zoya doesn't know if she'll ever be content with the Darkling, not if things continue like this.

“And what are those gifts?” Another challenge for him to answer like a royal: smug, overconfident, and oh so sure that the world will give him what he wants. Zoya shoves down the thought that she does want to give him what he wants. She gives no man the satisfaction of a gift.

“Dancing, singing, shooting among others. I am a man of many gifts, even poetry on occasion.”

Her mind flashes back to her mission in Ketterdam and the scrap of poetry she had read there. That sentimental pile of mush had been wormed in her mind for the past month despite her hatred of it.

“I’ve never met a man who’s gifted at poetry.”

Sturmhond waggled his eyebrows and there was a strangle glint in his eyes. “Had a bad experience with a poet, eh? I might be able to change that.”

Zoya looks him up and down. It genuinely seems that he is offering to compose a poem on the spot. A month ago, she wouldn't have even pretended to consider this proposal, but something had changed. 

"Go ahead and try." She juts her head up and levels her coolest gaze at him. He will not win her over like the other bad poet had.

Sturmhond strikes a pose, a faux brooding look appearing on his face. He stares at Zoya and she swears he can see right through her. 

“Your heart I want to win, come with me and a new life we shall start, eyes as sapphire blue as the ocean, the sea queen of my heart”

It takes a second for the words to reach Zoya. They are nearly identical to the same ones uttered by Prince Nikolai. The order is reversed and now the word sea was added, but the words are the same.

“You're silent with shock. Or maybe disgust? It’s a good thing I’m known for being a pirate, not a poet.” He winks at her dumbfoundedness and though there is no physical resemblance to Prince Nikolai, Zoya cannot help but gasp as she is seized with an impossible idea. How could he have known the lines? Through his surveillance or by other means? Only Nikolai had known those words. Could Sturmhond be…? All her thoughts are halted as he draws closer and his body is pressing up against hers. 

“Make your choice soon,” he whispers in her ear, sending a chill down her spine “or it will be made for you.”

With that, Sturmhond whisks away into the night and Zoya is left alone with the impossible thought that Sturmhond was the lazy college poet who had charmed his way into her heart and that he was about to overthrow the Darkling.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I read the trilogy, so I have no idea if the timeline of this works out at all. Sorry!


End file.
